Deducing Beauty
by BEWinters
Summary: Victorian! Sherlolly! Molly Hooper, the town beauty, finds herself drawn to the recluse of her town, Sherlock Holmes. With Moriarty, the eligible bachelor of the town, constantly trying to woo Molly, and Sherlock constantly trying not to fall for her, will Molly finally find the adventure she's always wanted?
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome back!**

**UPDATE ON Why Are You My Remedy: Part Two will come up as soon as I get it started and planned out :) there isn't that high of a demand so it'll stay one part until I can get to it ^.^**

**Other than that, welcome to the new Sherlolly fanfiction. Victorian! Sherlolly :D**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Ms. Hudson: Oh... You shouldn't steal things, hon...**

**Sherlock: No no no, she didn't steal us!**

**Molly: No, she's **_**borrowing **_**us!**

**Ms. Hudson: oh... Why would she do that?**

**Sherlock: Well...**

**Molly: because she wants me and Sherlock together...**

**Ms. Hudson: REALLY?! I thought everyone wanted you and John-**

**Anderson: *barges through window* no.**

***walks out door***

**Sherlock: ...**

**Molly: ...**

**Ms. Hudson: ...**

**The Doctor: Well that was irrelevant...**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The wind blew through the auburn colored hair of which fell upon a beautiful woman's face like rose petals on satin.

Her red lipsticked lips pressed together in a small pout, her silky milk white skin glowing in the afternoon sun as she had her pointed nose stuck in a book.

Stagecoaches rolled past her, splashing yesterday's rain onto unsuspecting standing people. She bumps into a few passerby's who politely yell at her, but she pays no mind.

She rather was stuck in another world... Dashing sword fights... Princesses and dragons... Vampires... Creatures... The works.

She would gasp and "aw" at certain parts, and overall just seem completely enthralled in that of which she is reading.

As she made it to the book store, two men were standing and waiting for her.

Moriarty and Moran.

Moriarty was a town hunk, a man every woman wanted and apparently needed in their lives.

And his loyal sidekick, Moran. A handsome fellow, but normal compared to Moriarty.

"Well well well..." Moriarty sings in a taunting tone.

Molly looks up, and rolls her chestnut colored eyes.

"Good afternoon, Jim." Molly says politely, trying to find the goodness in Moriarty like she did for all the people of her small town.

"Good afternoon, Molly... What's this in your fingers, hm?" He asks, and snatches the book from the unsuspecting woman.

"A book. You know... Those things people read for entertainment."

Moriarty looks at it and raises an eyebrow.

"Mhm... Mhm... Mmm..." He shrugs and hands it to Moran with an almost musing look.

Moran looks it over and actually tries to read it, and ends up looking a bit confused.

"Eh... Sounds boring."

"Indeed it does, my friend, indeed it does. Why read when you could come to my home and share a drink, share a laugh, actually have fun instead of... Reaadddd..." He says disgustedly, throwing the book in the air for Molly to catch, for which she does and holds it to her chest like her baby.

"Well... I was busy tonight, anyways."

Moriarty looks to Molly with a laugh.

"I would bet any amount of coins that you aren't. Lying isn't going to get you out of our get together." Moran counters her fib, and leaves Molly groaning out of annoyance.

"Well, my father-"

"Has been missing for years." Moriarty sighs, and inspects his nails, fixes the sleeves on his wrists, and the collar on his neck.

Well, he wasn't wrong. But Molly always visits a grave before going home. It was a ritual. It helped clear her head, like a sad story. She didn't want to admit he was dead, but she also didn't want to get her hopes up that he might come back and have them die when they finally find out what he really was...

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I best be back off to work. Come along, Moran."

Moran tips his hat to the woman, and they both headed off.

.

.

.

Molly enters the bookstore, and immediately puts the book she borrowed on a shelf.

"Afternoon, milady." The owner greets her as usual. He was a chubby man with a sweet disposition, bright grey eyes, white wiry hair, a mustache over his lip, and lovely lips always curled in a smile for his favorite customer.

"Afternoon." She replies, and rests her forehead against the shelf.

"Something the matter, my dear?" He asks, with a voice as smooth and soothing as honey.

Molly shakes her head, and runs a hand over her red fabric stomach to sooth the nervous butterflies.

"Fine, sir. Just..." She sighs, and turns around, leaning against the bookcase full of different colored spines holding her up.

"Have you ever... Wanted more... Than what you have?" She asks the man, shorter than she.

The man thinks about it, and nods.

"Well... I do. I have all these books and all these stories to take me somewhere and give me treasures untold."

Molly sighs, and nods.

"I meant... More than a story. But, you're right... I should be thankful. I have... Books and a home... Food... A job... Everything..." She turns, and takes a book, turning the pages and skimming what she already read over and over and over.

The owner of the bookstore looks over her tenderly, and looks at his feet.

"But you want more... Perhaps... An adventure..." He says with a small smile, knowing his makeshift daughter would want this someday.

Molly nods, and closes the book with a small

*flump*

"So much... I want to go on my own, explore the world. I want to go beyond my books... To the outside world." She says wistfully, experiencing wanderlust for the first time.

"Perhaps... You should."

Molly turns to the man with a delicate eyebrow raised.

"I should?"

The man nods and pockets his fingers, still nodding.

"Yes, you should. Explore. Find love. Find adventure. You're a woman now... I trust you."

Molly smiles a little, and holds the book close to her lovingly.

"Where should I go? Where..." She whispers to herself as she steps around the small room, humming to herself.

The man bounces on the balls of his feet.

"Sherlock Holmes..."

"Hm?" She asks in a small voice, and the man pops his tongue as he walks to the shelves and pulls out a large book dressed in black.

On the cover lay an inscription.

_The Grand Adventures of Sherlock and Watson_

"It's a new shipment. John Watson, the friend of Sherlock Holmes, has just published his newest book."

Molly looks through it, skimming over words and phrases, and gaining a bit of knowledge of the two.

"Ok... And?"

The owner of the store smiles at her, and taps his fingers on the table for which the book lay on.

"He'll find your father. I can guarantee it. He's the best at what he does..."

Molly looks over the words again, reading about this... Sherlock...

"You really think so?" She asks with complete and utter hope.

The man nods, entirely sure of himself.

"Oh yes... Yes, he most certainly will."

Molly closes the book, holds it to her chest, and takes a deep breath as she runs out the door.

Gasping, she runs back in and kisses the man's cheek.

"Thank you... Thank you so much, sir."

The man smiles humbly, and nods.

.

.

.

Sherlock sits upon his chair as usual at his address of 221B.

It was a large fortress on the outside, but the rooms individually were small.

He sits, fingers perched upright under his chin, as if in a prayer, and contemplates.

Contemplates everything.

He felt something was about to happen, but concludes it must just be the story he had just finished.

John Watson, a loyal man for whom worked with Sherlock, walks into the room and smiles at his friend.

"Going home. Mary and the baby must be starving."

Sherlock makes a noise, and doesn't say anything.

John forgot to add, the man was a beast at times. Utterly horrible to be around.

"Alright. Goodnight, sir." He waved, and turned. Leaving the subject alone.

"Mhm..." Sherlock muttered, and looked to the dwindling fire.

It snapped and crackled, and within it Sherlock saw figures, saw people dancing...

It was his inner soul.

Once the door closed in the other room, Sherlock stands by the window, and leans against it.

"Mmm... Goodnight, dear friend..." He says to his imaginary friend.

"Goodnight to anybody out there... Goodnight to any friends... Anyone..." He says farewell as usual to no one, but prefers it that way... For who could ever learn to love a beast?

.

.

.

**Sorry it's so long! I just got so into it! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! ^.^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello my Sherlollions! Omg, 5 comments on my first chapter ALREADY! I'm so freaking happy!**

**So, to answer some comments, yes, I LOVE Beauty and the Beast and am SO happy you caught onto that already! I see a lot of similarities between Beauty and the Beast and Sherlolly and also quite a few from Nightmare Before Christmas and Sherlolly.**

**So, for my next chapter, I dedicate it to all of you who are faithful Sherlolly shippers and to me :) also, dedicated to , tardisdementor, sherlolly_pop , solely_sherlolly_shippers , and of coarse, eaa333. All on IG so give them all a big round of applause and open the curtains for our next chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Anderson: *loudly chews popcorn as he watches***

**Sherlock: *awkwardly shifts in his chair***

**Molly: *makes a small noise which makes Sherlock blush because it was so cute***

**Anderson: *makes googly eyes at his ship***

**Sherlock: shut up, Anderson.**

**Anderson: I didn't say a word.**

**Sherlock: you looked at us like you always do**

**Molly: It's fine. He's secretly happy.**

**Hudson: Not her characters, by the way. *sits close to Greg for whom looks at her with an awkward smile* Hi...**

**Greg: Um...**

**Hudson: Would you like some tea?**

**Greg: We're at the movies...**

**Hudson: ...oh...**

**Dean: I want pie...**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The rain patters on the rocky ground, as the clouds roll past the dull blue.

The stagecoach of which Molly occupied rolled on the water and splashed the bright green grass which turned into rolling hills with lifeless flowers and trees.

The fall has come, and the birds had all flown away to Molly's dismay. She awfully loved birds...

She had asked the man driving the carriage to take her to 221B Baker Street, as was written in the book, and he complied with a cheerful smile. He was a big fan, apparently.

As they drove, she found the ride to be a while already, and knew that it would take an even longer while to get there.

So she fell asleep...

.

.

.

_"Where are you going, daddy?"_

_A young Molly Hooper sits on the floor with her dolls, playing with an invisible partner._

_"Out. I'll be back in a few, my little dove." He says nervously, and exits the wooden door to their humble abode._

_"Ok..." She whispers to the air, and dashes to the window, staring outside, watching him take a stagecoach and leave with only a sack of gold and the clothes on his back._

_He never came back..._

_He just left..._

_And poor Molly sits in front of the fire on a dark, cold, and dreary night to brace the storm alone... The house shakes, and she covers her little ears with her petite hands._

_"Alone! I'm all alone!" She screams_

_Alone... Alone... Alone..._

_._

_._

_._

"Alone... Alone... Alone on a wide wide open sea..." She mumbles to herself as she is shaken by the man driving the coach.

"Alone... Alone-" she sits up with a jolt, and the man looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"We're here, ma'am." He explains to her simply, and holds out his bandaged fingers, indicating he wanted his coins.

"Already?" Molly asks him, and looks out her window.

She is met with the sound of horse hooves, the sight of women with umbrellas and men with top hats and mustaches, and the smell of the sewers and freshly baked breads.

Looking out, she also can see large buildings, and the sight of the infamous door.

221B.

"We are, ma'am. I already told you..." He says with an annoyed tone.

Molly steps out, dressed in a blue gown that was worn a lot by the small woman, and was no where near as extravagant as the women around her. Her hair was left up in a bun, and was no where near as large as the other women.

"The coins, ma'am." He holds out his hand again. This time with the curling of his fingers.

Molly turns to him, and clears her throat, handing him a handful.

"There you are. Thank you, dear Philip." She nods her head, and he grumbles a few profanities under his breath as he mounts the seat of the coach, and snaps his reigns, the horse prancing away to fill the current of coaches on the path.

.

.

.

Sherlock plays his violin as Watson sits in his chair with his notebook, writing away their last case as Sherlock gets lost in his tune.

All of a sudden, a gentle knock awakes him.

Sherlock stops, and Molly hears this.

Watson raises an eyebrow at the door, and looks up.

"Get it." Sherlock orders, and gently places his coffee colored instrument on the ground.

Watson does as he is told, and as he creaks open the old wooden door, he is met with an attractive young woman with a pretty face.

Molly is met with a humble man, much like the librarian in her quaint town, who lightly grins as if he has seen an angle.

"Um... Are you... Sherlock Holmes?" She asks, and Watson can hear a gentle tone, one that carries much sadness yet much lightness, like a leaf hitting the ground.

"Um... No no, my name is Watson. How do you do?" He asks, and Molly can hear a timid yet strong voice, and can hear also the same sadness he heard.

"I am good, thank you. Um... Is he in?" Molly asks, and Watson opens the door further for her to see in.

With his back turned, Molly sees a tallish man with dark curly hair, and a three piece suit on for which was all black. She sees he was quite masculine, and blushes a bit that she was expecting someone... Older.

"Sherlock. You seem to have a client." Watson calls out, and Sherlock turns, and stops before he could say something harsh.

He was met with the sight of beautiful Molly Hooper, and his mouth was left slightly open.

Molly takes a tiny step back, and clears her throat.

"Um... I'm sorry for interrupting you. But I came to ask if you'd solve me case." She explains timidly, and wrings her fingers, which Sherlock knew indicated she was nervous.

"Mhm..." He composes himself.

Watson thought he saw the man change before his eyes. But perhaps he was just seeing things.

"Sit down, miss." Sherlock swiftly turns, and sits in his usual whilst Molly sits in Watson's chair.

"Um... Yes. I've heard quite a lot about you." Molly milks his ego a little without noticing.

"Ah, you've read Watson's works. He talks quite a lot about me. Sometimes I think he exaggerates but no, he's quite right. I am the best at what I do." The man says arrogantly, and Molly frowns a little.

"Oh."

Sherlock fixes his collar, and crosses his legs as he deduces the woman.

"You're here for something missing, aren't you?" He asks, and Molly nods.

"How did you know?" She had read about his mad deducing skills, and had waited for the trick to be done on her.

"The way you sit suggests you haven't slept much, meaning you obviously are worried over something, and you aren't here for a murder because it seems like you have waited a while before doing anything, and if it were murder, you'd come right away. Also, your eyes..."

Molly shrivels up in her seat a little, feeling a bit exposed.

"What about them?" She asks, and looks away.

"They're... Always lost... And seem..." He stares into the hazel orbs of hers... Getting lost himself as he feels... Connected.

Molly finally gazes up a little, and sees how beautiful his were. Blueish green swimming around to create almost a white...

"Away..." He finishes off in a wistful way. He looks down and clears his throat, for which Molly does the same.

"Oh." Was her only reply.

Watson stands awkwardly in the corner, and watches this weird yet... Strangely amusing scene unfold.

"Who is missing? Let me guess... Your cat." He asks harshly, and Molly clasps her hands on her lap.

"My father."

"Nice, Sherlock..." Watson mutters and scratches his cheek, embarrassed for the man.

"Ah... And you want me to what? Look for him? If you haven't noticed, I solve murders, not missing persons." He explains coldly, and Molly grows a bit angry.

"I noticed that, I am not stupid. I merely came to you because I hoped that... Perhaps you could prove he isn't dead." Molly explains, and Sherlock takes one final look at her.

"...boring..." He mumbles, and stands, back turned to her.

"Take a visit to Scotland Yard... They'll help you..." He sighs to the window, and looks out with a far off glimmer in his eyes.

Watson looks to him sadly, and takes Molly's elbow.

"Here, i'll show you the way..."

Sherlock looks down.

"What was your name?" He asks lowly, and Molly wipes a little water from her eye.

"Molly... Molly Hooper."

Sherlock turns again, and crosses his arms behind his back.

"Your father was George Hooper?" He asks.

And Molly nods.

"How did you-"

"I heard of him through the newspaper. I was curious of him. I will help. But only if you promise me one thing, Miss. Hooper."

Molly's eyes widen, and she nods her head quickly, hope escaping her like water escaping a dam.

"Stay here. I'll need your help if i'm to know of him. Also... John's wife is expecting another child so he won't be able to stay here all the time."

John looks exactly like Molly, only with more anger.

"What?" He asks.

"John. I believe Mary has something to tell you." Sherlock explains a minute too late, expecting his nails.

"Sherlock, you... You..."

.

.

.

Moriarty enters the book store, and takes the librarian by the collar.

"You told her didn't you... You told her..."

The man gurgles as he is being choked, and begins turned completely red.

"Pl... Please... Please... She... She deserves... To know-" And the man coughs once more.

Moriarty drops the body, and wipes his gloved hands with a straight face.

"Molly Hooper deserves only what I can give her. And that is me." He spits at the carcass, and walks out of Molly's beloved bookstore.

.

.

.

**Well... That escalated quickly.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Sherlollians! :D**

**Allow me to answer some comments because I just love them so much! :**

**The_Scorpio_Holmes_Sister: Thank you so much, I love all of your comments to be honest 3 *hands you cookie***

**nowsusieq: thank you! The mood/tone i'm setting is different for me so that means a lot to me :)**

**FanFicGirl10: Thank you! BAtB is my favorite Disney movie and I just adored the idea! And I shall, in fact, I am ;)**

**ashlanielle: eheh, it's perfectly fine, and thank you! And it's mine too! /).(\**

**ProperlyPrim: I love all your comments too! And I shall, thank you :)**

**ashlanielle: hello again! And eheh, sorry ^.^ and. I problem, thanks for the comments :)**

**FanFicGirl10: I hope it wasn't too OOC, that's my biggest fear, but since i'm crossovering it is a bit hard but thank you and I shall once again update ;)**

**The_Scorpio_Holmes_Sister: Eheh, you win best comment darling! *hands you another cookie* thanks for the review ^.^**

**ProperlyPrim: Thank you again 3 all your comments make my day!**

**Sisterspy: *sips soda loudly* thanks for the review *steals popcorn from you***

**Onwards my sherlollians!**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Anderson: *sighs and scratches beard* we don't belong to this girl... *crosses arms***

**Hudson: Neither does Sherlolly... *sips tea***

**Molly: Nor anything else she put in here *raises eyebrow as she sips her coffee***

**Sherlock: If we did, I would know *crosses legs and accidentally kicks Molly***

**Anderson: *otp noises* *faints***

**.**

**.**

**.**

Sherlock and John sit in their chairs as Molly sits in her new room, contemplating what she was to do.

"Sherlock..." John whispers as Sherlock tunes his violin. Sherlock looks up and waits for the rest of what John probably would nag him on.

"You have never asked a client to stay with you... Why now?"

Sherlock gently sets his wooden violin on the table between the two men, and perches his fingers under his chin as he stares John down.

"Because... I need her help. You and Mary will be with each other constantly and I need someone."

John nods as he explains this, and scoffs a little.

"There is something you are not telling me..."

Sherlock sighs as he stands and paces the room with his hands behind his back.

"No. I am telling you everything. I need this woman's help."

John watches him, and shakes his head.

"You have told me countless of times you work alone. Please tell me the truth, Sherlock."

Molly places her small ear against the door, and listens intently to the conversation.

It was muffled, but she heard it all.

"Alright... There is a tale that spread like wildfire about a doctor named George Hooper. He was intelligent and good at what he did in the medical field. He disappears and leaves his young daughter orphaned... I was only a child when I tried to solve this case. There is only three obvious outcomes I had originally come up with at that time..."

John listens just as intently as Molly was next door, unknown to the two men, and nods.

"They are?..." John asks, tilting his head.

"A) he left her for a woman. B) he suicided. Or C) he was murdered. I ruled out the first two... Because just looking at Molly... I doubt he was unhappy with her." Sherlock says with a bit of softness.

John senses this, and nods in agreement.

"She does look very sweet... But why murdered?"

Sherlock sits back down, crosses his legs once more, and sighs a grand old sigh.

"I do not know... Why would anyone murder, John?" He looks to his crime companion, and raises an eyebrow.

Watson shrugs.

"Money... Drugs... And to eliminate enemies."

Sherlock points to him and smiles.

"Exactly. George had an enemy... But he too had disappeared that night and was a recluse doctor no one particularly knew of nor cared for like George."

As Molly listened, tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Why would anyone want to hurt her poor father. He was a happy man. Everyone loved him... Her stomach had butterflies, her ears began to ring, and her palms sweat... She was falling apart.

"Alright... But that doesn't answer my question."

Sherlock groans, and rests his head back, looking at the ceiling.

"What... Would you like... To hear, Watson?" Sherlock moans out in an annoyed manner.

"Why is she here? There is still _something _you are not telling me..."

Sherlock stares intently at the ceiling, as if something was genuinely beautiful about the wood...

"Because, Watson... She knows something... I see it in her eyes... She saw something the night her father went missing that is crucial to this case... She holds the key to unlocking her fathers mystery. She has been holding it this whole time... This entire time, and she could have solved it herself years and years ago."

Molly gasps, and both men look up and at each other.

Molly throws open the door and sprints out of the empty and dark room, as if a big bad wolf was chasing her, and down the steps.

She runs out into the rainy night, the droplets kissing her dark hair and making it curl.

She looks left and right at the empty street, the moonlight reflecting off of the puddles and into her eyes.

She turns right, and speeds down the street, the cold settling into her goose bumped pale skin.

A man bumps into her drunkenly, and holds onto her waist.

"Ello there, beauty. Mind occupying my bed fer the night?" He slurs and sticks a coin into her shirt.

She gasps and pushes away, the coin dropping down the skirt.

The man advances her, pulling her back into his embrace.

She could smell his vomit like breath on her lips as he groaned out.

"Come on, sweetie... I dernt bite too herd..." He whispers in a blood curdling like way, making her stomach churn to the point she might just add to the puke on his grey beard ticking her chin.

"No! Please, I-I..." She couldn't explain as she was dropped onto her bum on the floor, and sees a tall man push him away, the man falling over as well.

He stands back up and punches Molly's savior, but the drunk merely gets knocked over again as Molly's hero kicks his legs from underneath him and he falls over.

The sober man picks up the coin and throws it at the drunks face.

"The next time I see you on this street again, I will not hesitate to throw you in front of a carriage, Magnussen." The man kicks him, and turns to Molly.

Lightning strikes and Molly can see it was Sherlock behind the curtain of rain shrouding his face.

He bends over, and in one swift movement, swooped Molly in his two strong arms bridal style.

Molly gasps and tries to push herself out of his hands, but he kept her close.

Once back inside, Sherlock sits her down on the floor in front of the fire, and hands her a blanket silently.

She looks down at the little pool of water building beneath her strands of hair, and sees the small markings from the man on her cheek. Little hairs from his beard and a bit of a scent... She grimaces and looks up to see Sherlock sit on the chair next to her.

He inhales sharply, and puts a finger over his lip.

"Oh..." Molly kneels in front of him and inspects it.

"Let me help-"

"It is fine. I am fine." He swipes her hand from his face, but she insists.

"Please..." She begs a little with her eyes, and Sherlock moves his finger.

She notices a few cuts on his fingers and a gash on his lower lip, and moves to find a towel. She comes back with once eventually, and concentrates on the marks to keep her mind away from what she had just been through.

Sherlock keeps his mouth closed, and doesn't say a word until she was finished healing him.

"Why did you run?" He interrogates emotionlessly.

Molly places the towel neatly on her shoulder and moves to his fingers, one by one cleaning them out and bandaging them.

"I heard you talking..." Was all she answered with, as if hiding what she truly meant.

"Why did you run?" He asks a bit more persistently.

Molly looks up with an annoyed look.

"Because you did not tell me all that you told your friend. Why I am here. Why I am truly here, might I add."

Sherlock turns his head as Molly runs a few locks of hair behind her ear.

"Well, maybe I had not thought of all of that until that moment."

Molly scoffs, and shakes her head.

"Well, perhaps I would not have run of had told me all that before!" She says louder than him.

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Perhaps, if you had not run, I would ha e told you tomorrow!" He yells.

Molly crosses her arms, and yells right back.

"Perhaps, I would not have run if you had told me this earlier!"

Sherlock points a finger and was about to say something, but instead closes his mouth.

"Fine."

Molly pulls his fingers back to her and finishes up.

"Fine... But all else aside... Thank you." Molly sighs, and finishes up.

Sherlock looks down, and blinks.

"For... For what?" He asks with furrowed eyebrows.

"Saving me." She answers with a small frown, and stands, gulping a bit as she turns to place everything back.

Sherlock looks down at his bandages, the small traces of the warmth of her fingers left on his skin. Little drips of rain from her hair dripped down his wrist. The words of which she last said imprinted on his heart.

Molly retreats back to her bedroom, and she cuddles back up in the bed.

She held the secret to her fathers disappearance. And this frightened her...

She could have solved it years before, and saved her years of grief...

Years... And years of utter grief...

.

.

.

John sees Sherlock by the window as he pulls his arm into a sleeve.

"Leaving for home. Goodnight."

Sherlock puts up a hand, and John's eyes widen as the man actually attempted a goodbye.

John looks to Molly's door, and smiles gratefully.

Perhaps this is what Sherlock needed.

A woman to change his heart.

Once the door closed, Sherlock looks out to England, and nods.

"Goodnight, invisible friend. Goodnight people who are awake... Asleep... Who care..." He sighs his farewells and goes to Molly's door.

He knocks tentatively, and opens it to see Molly's sleeping form turned from him.

He breathes out through his nose, and whispers.

"Goodnight... Molly Hooper..." And silently closes the door.

"Goodnight, Sherlock." She whispers back.

.

.

.

**How'd you like it? :) let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my fellow Sherlollians!**

**Thanks for more reviews, they always make my day a dream come true because I love your reactions ^.^**

**Anywhoooo, i'm going to jump straight into it, sorry for any grammatical mistakes because I do check but I don't always see if you know what I mean xD**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Hudson: *brews some tea* why must we ALWAYS give a disclaimer? Do we really need one?**

**Me: Yes. Because if I don't, Lestrade will take me in...**

**Sherlock: He wouldn't even notice...**

**Molly: *kicks his foot* Shhh... This is her story, let her do what she wants.**

**Sherlock: *sighs, but blushes a little***

**Anderson: *pops in and wheezes because OTP feels***

**NOTE: for a really good song, listen to Arrival of the Birds/Transformation by The Cinematic Orchestra™ it's amazing! Please give it a listen!**

**.**

**.**

**.**

It was the day after what had happened, and poor Molly Hooper hadn't slept a wink.

A week passed, and Sherlock's routine followed like this.

He would awaken, and greet Molly with a small nod.

He would read a newspaper, and Molly would ask

"Any news on my father?"

Sherlock would answer back.

"Nothing yet."

He would then lounge on his favorite chair, and pluck his violin.

"Any cases today?" She would ask, sitting at a chair inspecting over some books he had brought in for "no particular reason".

"No, but I will get to it soon, Ms. Hooper."

It would follow with him laying flat on his back on the couch, and Molly would pace the floor with the book in her delicate fingers, Sherlock's slender ones perched beneath his chin.

"This is a grand story. Why did you pick this one?" She would interrogate.

Sherlock would open an eye, inspect the cover, and then shrug.

"I deduced that you would like the main character." He would answer. Or sometimes he would reply with "I deduced the story would be to your liking."

Molly would blush, and continue reading.

It would follow with lunch, for which Molly would sigh and stay as silent as the dust settling around the room.

Sherlock would always sit across from her, and inspect her as she didn't touch her food.

He would ask...

"What kinds of stories do you enjoy?"

And she would always answer

"Adventures." Or "Romances." Or even "Mysteries."

And the silence would remain.

And afterwords would be a series of a few cases, for which Molly would sit and read or listen a little.

But in the end, he never left the flat.

And to end the day, Molly would walk to her room, but before entering, she would turn her head and see the man at the window, silently gazing off into the moonlight, watching candles flicker in the distance. She would gently call out.

"Will you solve my case tomorrow like you do with all those other clients?"

And Sherlock would say.

"Possibly." And leave it at that.

Today, Molly started off the day with an old book she had already finished since her first week here.

Sherlock starts it off by watching.

"Which book is that?" He asks, and Molly looks up from her other reality.

"Oh... Um... Sleeping Beauty."

Sherlock nods, and watches her go back to reading, pupils dilated.

"What... What is that one about, particularly?" He asks, and Molly once again looks up with her large eyes widened, lips parted as she tried to comprehend the real world again.

"Um... A princess who goes under a sleeping spell. Her true love awakens her with true loves kiss..." She says sentimentally, and Sherlock squints.

"Really?... How do you think that is possible?"

Molly shrugs as she walks a few steps around, reading away.

"Magic... True love is the most powerful thing in the world, you know."

"Psh..." Sherlock disregards that, and Molly responded with

"Please argue that with me."

Sherlock stands and gently takes the book, reading a few lines as he strides around the room, Molly following closely to read over his shoulder.

"True loves kiss..." He murmurs, and Molly nods.

"It was the only way to break the curse!"

Sherlock uttered a few other things like

"Love... For babies... Hmm..."

Molly grabbed the book back and placed it under her arm.

"Well... If will just treat my love of reading like scraps of trash than I think I will just read in my room!" She yells, and stomps away to her room like she said.

Sherlock followed, and Molly turned to him with an annoyed look.

"I am not treating your love of reading like trash, I am simply trying to hold a conversation with you."

Molly sighs, and looks down at her book, running her thumb over the title.

"Why do you not believe in true love?"

She asks, and Sherlock runs a hand over the back of his neck.

"Because I have not felt it..."

Molly looks up from under her eyelashes and frowns a little.

"I am sorry... Here." She hands him her book, and he takes it as if it were a bomb, cautiously, and with aquamarine eyes begging for an explanation.

"Why?"

Molly smiles and dusts off the cover.

"You'd enjoy it."

.

.

.

That night, as Molly went to bed, she saw Sherlock sitting in his chair with a candle beside him.

He was reading.

Reading the book she gave him!

He was lost in it, completely and utterly lost as he read.

Nodding, crossing his arms...

He eventually looked up to see Molly staring.

She smiled, and he returned it, and with that she left him to fall deep into the darkness of her dreams.

Sherlock looks to the window, and shook his head as he whispered a name, a name to which he never thought he'd be saying goodnight to...

"Molly Hooper... Goodnight, Ms. Molly Hooper..."

Molly hadn't heard this, but as she sat in bed with another book which had "mysteriously shown up" in the flat, she looked to the door, for which behind it lay the man she was now staying with.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sherlock Holmes..."

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.

.

Moriarty and Moran sat in the pub.

Moriarty and Moran both sit at their usual tables, sipping their beers.

The town had been spreading rumors that Molly had disappeared like her father, perhaps with him, and that some curse is plaguing her family. And of coarse there were other mad theories...

The bookkeeper, who hadn't died but was close to it, tried to pipe them all down and tell them the truth.

But lies spread faster than truths because truths are innocent and lies are not.

And unfortunately crazy rumors and gossip plagued the town ten times worse than it had the first time.

Moriarty smirks as he overhears one speaking of how Molly ran away with a man.

"What loony people we live near... Even more loony than you, Moriarty." Moran hiccuped, which earned him a slap on the face.

"Shut up! Listen... We both know Molly did not do that. I mean... She is more innocent than even the babies of this town."

Moran nods, and agrees with a swig of his alcohol.

"Now... We both know Mr. Dove, the mad bookkeeper is telling the truth... But we cannot leave."

Moran hiccups, and hazily asks.

"But why?"

Moriarty smacks his head.

"We cannot. So. We need to lure her here... Somehow... In some way..."

Moran once more hiccups, and shrugs.

"Lure that... Person... Man... Mad man... Here."

Moriarty sighs and shakes his head.

"How?"

Moran thinks, for a few moments, before exclaiming drunkenly

"Murder!"

Moriarty throws his own whiskey onto Moran, for whom licks his lips and mouth thirstily, ignoring the slight burn.

"Hmm... Perhaps..."

Moran shrugs.

"I am gonna... Go have another..."

As Moran stumbles to the bar, Moriarty chuckles.

"Hmm... Perhaps... Not now... But eventually... And soon..." He whispers to himself.

.

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**Yay :) review like and follow, love you! ^.^**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello my Sherlollions!**

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated lately :(**

**I have been sick, eck, so I haven't been able to get on!**

**Anyways. Shoutout to TheNiceCritic (sorry if I messed up your username, i'm using a different app to type this and cannot see your handle) for the coolio comments ;)**

**And to answer your question, there is two answers. The reasoning I made her run away was because she overheard Sherlock talking about how she knew her entire life about her father's disappearance and she's afraid. The reason we get afraid of the unknown is because it's unknown to us, so she ran because**

**A) she feels she doesn't know.**

**And**

**B) because she's afraid to know. After all these years, she can't believe she knew, and will come to know.**

**Also**

**C) she's afraid he's dead, instead of missing.**

**So to sum it up, she ran because all of these things were running through her mind.**

**But i'd like to hear what you thought, because interpretations of any of the scenes would be interesting :3**

**And for the typo, sorry. If i'm able to change it let me know :)**

**And so it begins ;)**

**DISCLAIMER!**

**Anderson: *sits on couch with a wide grin on his face***

**Sherlock: *sits staring at him with a raised eyebrow* who will say it first...**

**Anderson: ...not me...**

**Sherlock: ...**

**Anderson: ...**

**Sherlock: ...**

**Anderson: ...**

**John: oh for goodness sakes! SHE DOESNT OWN THESE CHARACTERS!**

**Sherlock: I WIN!**

**Anderson: OH BUGGERS! I for certain thought it'd be Molly!**

**Sherlock: Really? It's very obvious she wouldn't! She kept my death a secret for two years!**

**Anderson: ...aw...**

**Sherlock: SHUT UP!**

**Anderson: otp... *makes heart with hands***

**.**

**.**

**.**

Molly sits at the breakfast table, as usual, whilst Sherlock looks at the paper.

Dressed with his lovely red robe and usual attire beneath it, he skims over the paper in his slender fingers.

Molly stands and gently places the dishes in the sink.

Sherlock's aquamarine eyes follow her, and Molly blushes a little.

She too was still in her pajamas with a robe placed over her shoulders, long brown hair flowing gently down her back.

Sherlock thought she seemed different with her hair down, it made her brown eyes pop out, and the way she moved seemed more relaxed... Perhaps she had finally grown a bit comfortable around him...

"The book you gave me... It was... Very..."

Molly turned to him as she sways back to her seat, and smiles lightly.

"You did not like it?"

Sherlock smiled a little too, attempting the very first, and blinks a little as he attempts the sentence.

"It was... Lovely..." He tries, sounding a bit forced as he thought of a word to fit what he thought was a good describe the book that surprised him.

Molly sits surprised, but answers with a tiny.

"R-really? You... Said-"

Sherlock chuckles and stands, taking his dishes with him.

"It surprised me greatly, Molly, but that is the thing of a good book... Covers are merely meant to cover the perfection of a story... Kind of like a good person..."

Molly takes the words to heart, and nods.

"Hm..." She mutters pleasantly.

.

.

.

Sherlock throws on his coat, and grabs an umbrella, since the rain was pleasantly falling from the grey watercolored sky.

Molly leans against the door, and smiles gently.

"Why are you going out, Mr. Holmes?" She asks gently, hands behind back as she looks up to him from her short place on the ground.

Sherlock picks up a top hat and places it firmly on his head.

"I like a good walk on a rainy day, clears the mind and leaves more room for information." He winks as he explains wisely, and taps her on the nose with a slender finger, which makes her heart pump a little faster as well as his.

"Oh... Well good day, then." She nods her head, and turns to walk into the living room.

Sherlock watches with warm eyes, and takes his leave.

Sherlock had lied, a little at least.

Sherlock did indeed like a good stroll on a rainy day, and with that he had a jubilant smile upon his full lips, and an almost happy demeanor, but that was because he had other things on his mind.

He entered a shop for which sold dresses.

Looking about, he knew he had to give Ms. Molly a few gowns because she hadn't had any bags or anything to accompany her.

He picked up a yellow gown, with a floral design, and pursed his lips.

"Oh." He heard an older woman gasp, and he turned to see a small woman with wild white hair and specs on, and smiled a bit.

"Erm... Too much?" He asked, holding it up, looking absolutely lost.

"Oh, no! It's absolutely wonderful! Is it for your partner?" She asked merrily, simply happy for this unknown customer!

"Well... For a woman..." He explained, and the woman cut him off by clapping and laughing joyously.

"Yes! Oh this one is wonderful. Oh, is she really this dainty?"

Sherlock looked it over and shrugged.

"She is a bit small, but her figure is nice, and yellow would look wonderful on her... Her brown hair and brown eyes would just... Pop..."

The woman giggled and held it up, looking it over and trying to picture the beautiful woman the customer had told her about.

"Well... Since you are my favorite customer, I shall give you a discount." She smiled, and Sherlock kissed the older woman's cheek.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Do you mind helping me pick out a few more?"

.

.

.

As Sherlock opened the door, he saw Molly spinning around the room.

He did not say a word or make a noise, he simply watched as she paced around with her hands behind her back, lips pressed together, smiling with her eyes closed, and spinning around every so often...

He did not know why she was...

His Mind Palace gave no indication as to why...

But she looked so... At ease...

He watched as she laughed a little, arms spread wide...

Then he noticed... She was daydreaming...

She threw her head back and spun, falling gently onto her back.

He strolled over to her side and looked down at her with a wink.

"Having fun, Ms. Molly?"

Molly gasped and stood, fixing her usual blue dress, and cleared her throat.

"Eh... How much did you see?" She asked, not looking him in the eye.

"Oh, it is perfectly alright, Ms. Molly. We all daydream now and then... But it was strange, what were you doing?" He waves it off, and Molly furrows her eyebrows as she tries to explain.

"Uh... Well... Mainly I was just... Dancing." She said awkwardly, and turned around to avoid the confrontation of this embarrassing conversation.

"Do you... Trust me, Ms. Molly?" He asks, and she shrugs a little.

"A little. I barely know you."

Sherlock sighs and hides the dresses behind his back.

"Well... What do you know?" He asks, just seeing what she knew. But secretly stall because he had never given a gift to anyone.

"That you are a detective who... Has a gift... Likes to play the violin... And look out the window at night." She sighs and spins on her heel, looking back at him.

"That is pretty much all..." He replies, smiling a bit sadly.

"Oh..." She looks down, and Sherlock thinks that perhaps now is a good time to give her the gift.

"I have-"

Molly looks up at him, and blinks innocently as she awaits what he has in store.

"I... Got you... Something..." He holds out the gowns, wrapped in plain white paper, and Molly takes it with caution.

As she opens it, she smiles a little bit wider.

"You... You got me dresses?" She asks, and Sherlock runs a hand behind his neck.

"Yes-"

"How did you know my size?" She asks with a chuckle, and Sherlock blushes a deep red.

"I guessed?" Molly blushes a little too, and Sherlock's eyes widen.

"I mean, I deduced. You were not _that _hard to-I mean... Um..." Molly sighs and hugs them to her as if one of her books, for which tells Sherlock he had done just fine.

"Thank you..." She leans on her tippy toes, and kisses his cheek.

Sherlock once more blushes a bit...

He had never... Been kissed on the cheek...

As she walks back to her room, he places his fingers on the place she had kissed him, and smiled as he replayed the memory.

Her lips were so... Soft and warm...

He looks to her door, pockets his hands, and looks at his shiny black shoes.

Perhaps... He wasn't... A monster...

.

.

.

John enters the flat, knowing no one was up at this hour, but smiles anyways as he sees Sherlock in his chair smoking a pipe, and Molly reading on the ground by his seat in front of a lit and warm fire, listening to her read aloud the story of Jack and the Beanstalk.

She looks up to see John, and smiles.

"Hello!" She calls out and stands, and John notices she was wearing something new, peculiar since she hadn't packed.

"Hello, Ms. Hooper!" He hugs her as she falls into his arms, and he smiles.

Once she lets go, he sees she was wearing a pink gown with ruffled sleeves and collar, both white.

"Lovely gown." He compliments, and Molly smoothes it out a little as she spins in it.

"Thank you, Sherlock bought it for me!" As she says this, Sherlock fixes his collar, and lets out a puff of smoke.

"Yes... It was my pleasure, Ms. Molly." He smiles at her, and she smiles back.

John is completely bewildered.

Sherlock being nice, Sherlock actually making an endeavor to... _Please _someone!

"Any reason you are here and not at home, perhaps Mary is starting to complain again?" Sherlock winks as he teases, but knew he was right.

"Now, Sherlock..." Molly starts, but Sherlock raises a hand.

"I know, I know... Why are you here, John?" Sherlock asks, and John once more grows surprised.

"You... I... Mary is complaining again... But she is fine, she is asleep. I just came to check in. You do not live too far so..." He shrugs and smiles. Molly adores how happy John is in his marriage, and hoped she herself could have that.

Sherlock watches the fire, and lets out another puff of smoke as he thinks of how alone he feels whenever John speaks of Mary because he himself wants that.

"We are perfectly fine, my dear Watson... But... Thank you, for checking up on us. Your loyalty to me always astounds me." Sherlock looks up and nods in respect to the man, and Molly cannot help but see a bit of a change... She could tell just by looking at Watson's face.

He looked amazed.

The man complimented **and **said thank you to him.

"Em... Thank you, Sherlock."

Sherlock grins, and then it falls as he looks back to the fire.

Molly looks back to Watson, who nodded again.

"Well, I best be off... Mary will probably shoot me once she finds I have been off. Good night, Ms. Hooper. You too, Sherlock." He waves at them both, and takes off.

Molly goes back to her place next to Sherlock's seat, looks up and smiles.

"Shall I continue?" She asks, and Sherlock shakes his head.

"I think we best head off to bed... I mean... I must retire." He doesn't want to frighten the girl!

She laughs though, not noticing the mess up, and stands, dusting off her book.

"Good night, Sherlock." She once more smoothens out her dress and heads to bed.

Sherlock lets out once more puff of smoke, and watches.

"Good night, Ms. Molly." He calls out, and she replies with a gentle smile before closing the door.

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**Not terribly much, but was hoping for some feels :)**


End file.
